


Not a Lady, Not a Lord Either

by sheriffandsteel



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fix-It, Gendrya - Freeform, episode 8x04? I don't know her, post 8x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:06:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheriffandsteel/pseuds/sheriffandsteel
Summary: He had never been good with words but Gendry still should have known better than to ask her to be his lady. How many times did she yell at him not to call her m'lady? He had never wished for anything as much as he did for the chance to take it back.





	Not a Lady, Not a Lord Either

When he awoke in the morning it took a few breaths for reality to settle around him. It took as long as it did for his head to start pounding for him to remember what he did before he stumbled into the forge to fall asleep on the bags of grain where he had lain with Arya only days before. Gendry’s blood ran cold as he remembered what he had done only hours ago. 

He had been half drunk on a mixture of ale and thoughts of Arya, positively giddy that the Dragon Queen had made him a lord. Not because he had any desire to be a lord (what did he know about running a castle?) but because lords were suitable matches in marriage for ladies and he had been in love with Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell for as long as he knew what the word love meant. 

Gendry had been certain that when he told Arya what the queen had given him that she would be happy for him, that she would accept his hand. Admittedly that certainty was mostly brought on by the alcohol in his bloodstream and the adrenaline high he was still riding from having survived the battle with the army of the dead. 

With both of those things gone from his body Gendry was left with a dull ache behind his temples and arms that throbbed with every movement. Now Gendry realized what a terrible mistake he had made the night before. Of course, Arya refused him, how stupid could he have been? She had been telling him for years not to call her a lady and then he goes and asks her to be one? 

“Stupid, stupid stupid.” Gendry muttered to himself as he dragged himself into a sitting position before letting his head rest in his hands as he groaned. How in the seven hells was he going to fix this? 

He had thought that being made a lord would answer all of his problems with Arya. He had been too ashamed to try to court her before, with her being a highborn lady and him a bastard from Flea Bottom. Even once he found out that he was the bastard of the dead king that didn’t change his thoughts on things, he knew his blood wasn’t noble no matter what the red witch had said. 

The first thought Gendry had when he was called Lord Gendry Baratheon was that now he had something to offer Arya. Now he could give her a castle and an honorable marriage, now he could be the lord to her lady. Now she could be proud to be with him. 

He had forgotten in his haste to reach her that Arya never did what he expected. 

Gendry found that he was not at all surprised when he learned that Arya left Winterfell without telling him goodbye. He knew about her list of names after all, he knew that she would not rest until every name was crossed off one way or another. He was a little shocked when he learned that she didn’t say good-bye to her siblings either, it wasn’t just him she had left behind wordlessly. It seemed she was more affected from the battle than any of them had realized. 

He spends the entire trip down to King’s Landing wishing that he had never proposed to her and trying to remember to respond whenever someone said ‘Lord Baratheon.’ He wished that he could take back his proposal, not because he didn’t want to marry her but because he would never try to make her be a lady. Not that anyone could get Arya Stark to do anything she didn’t want to do anyway. 

All Gendry wanted was to be with Arya, wherever she wanted to be. That was what he should have told her that night. He would never try to tame the wildness of her, it was one of the things he loved most about her. That was what he should have said when he was down on his knees in front of her. That he knew she was a wolf and he would never try to break her of that. He just wanted to be a part of her pack. 

Gendry just wanted the chance to be with her once more, in whatever way she chose. 

He found himself wishing as well that he had told the Dragon Queen he didn’t want to be a lord, that he appreciated the offer but she could keep Storm’s End. She should give it to someone worthy of it. He wasn’t stupid, no matter what people thought. Gendry knew that he had been given Storm’s End so that Daenerys would have someone loyal to her ruling one of the major houses. Gendry was too tired to be insulted that she assumed his loyalty could be so easily bought. 

By the time they reach King’s Landing he had already decided he was going to tell her that she could keep the lordship and the land but he never got the chance. 

When they finally reached King’s Landing it was already burning. 

There wasn’t much time for any thoughts for quite a while after that. If he were pressed to recall the tale of how he entered King’s Landing through the Mud Gate with the others Gendry wouldn’t be able to tell much. The battle blurred together with that of the one at Winterfell so much that sometimes Gendry would think they fought the dead in King’s Landing and the living in the North. 

The one thing he could remember with vivid detail was the aftermath of the battle. Cersei and Daenerys both had perished in the fighting as did the final dragon. Ser Davos and Tyrion had been trying to talk Jon Snow into taking the throne when Gendry left the Red Keep, his mind blank with exhaustion and his feet moving him past charred corpses of people who had fled to the castle for safety only to find their graves. He didn’t care who ended up on the Iron Throne, he just wanted all of the fighting to be over. 

The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air but Gendry was almost grateful for it as it masked some of the smell of burned bodies and human waste. The further he walked into the city the less destruction there was and by the time he was walking down the street of steel there were no more corpses huddled in the doorways. 

Gendry felt like he was the only living person in the city as he walked into a familiar forge, the fires long gone cold. He was certainly the only person in this part of the city judging by the utter silence. He couldn’t remember a time when it had been so quiet here. He ran his fingers over an abandoned sword blade, crudely made, as he thought of how strange it was to be here without the sound of steel singing or people barking orders at him. 

Taking a look around him Gendry wondered if any of the blacksmiths had survived. He still intended to deny Storm’s End, even with Jon on the throne. He wondered if he should come back to Flea Bottom, take up shop in one of the forges there. Even as Gendry surveyed the familiar materials around him he knew that he wouldn’t. He would go back to Winterfell, should Lady Sansa let him stay. They needed smiths in the North as well and he knew that Arya would return there one day. 

He could not bear the thought of his rejected proposal being the last time he saw her. 

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind a sudden sense made Gendry stiffen, feeling certain that there were eyes on him. His hand curled around the hilt of a nearby sword as he moved, he was better with a hammer but he could make due with a sword if he turned and saw one of Cersei’s still loyal followers behind him. Instead he found Arya, dirty and disheveled but very alive. 

Her brows raised at the sword in his hands and he let it drop to the floor feeling suddenly foolish. Gendry wanted desperately to run to her, to feel her soft lips on his again but she had already rejected him once. He could not bear to live through it again. Just seeing her alive, knowing that she survived, would have to be enough. 

“You survived. That’s good.” Arya noted, her soft voice breaking the silence. 

Gendry nodded slowly, trying to come up with something clever to say to her. He wanted to tell her that he knew she wasn’t a lady and that he loved her in spite or because of it. He was never really sure which. He wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen but that wasn’t why he loved her. He wanted to tell her he was going to give up Storm’s End, that he had never asked to be Gendry Baratheon. He was Gendry Waters, and that was who he would remain. 

He didn’t think he could get any of those thoughts into coherent enough sentences so instead Gendry settled on telling her the words that had been burning the tip of his tongue for weeks. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Her brows raised slightly at the words and she tilted her head slightly to the left as she looked at him. The action reminded him fondly of Jon’s great white beast Ghost. “For surviving?” 

He couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or serious but Gendry didn’t have time to figure it out. He felt like he had to make sure she knew what he felt now or he wouldn’t have the chance again. Too much of their time together had been stolen moments, he never knew how long they were going to last. “For asking you to marry me.” 

Arya smiled at him coldly and he felt like he could see even more of her armor click into place. She was bracing herself for rejection, he could feel it. Strange since she was the one who had rejected him just weeks ago. “Come to your senses then?” 

Gendry shook his head frantically. Surely, she had to know that wasn’t what he meant? He knew that this was going to be his last chance to get this right and the thought of messing it up nearly made him bowl over. Gendry had never been the smartest or the fastest but he was strong. He was brave. He had to tell Arya how he felt, he couldn’t let the fear of what she did with it stop him. Gendry had never been good with words but maybe this time the gods would help them come out right. 

“I still want to marry you.” Gendry admitted in a rush, his pulse pounding in his ears as Arya’s usually carefully controlled features showed a brief flash of panic. As desperately as Gendry wanted to touch her, he forced his feet to stay where they were. He felt like if he made any sudden movements Arya would spook like an animal and run. 

“We don’t have to get married; I just want to be with you. I always have. I always will.” Gendry was surprised by the fervor in his own voice and Arya looked at him wearily, biting her lip before looking down at her feet and shaking her head. 

Gendry had never known Arya to break eye contact with anyone first and his heart clenched at the sight. He didn’t know if she didn’t believe him or if it was too soon after the war was over or if she had just been expecting to die for so long that she no longer knew how to make plans for the future. He didn’t think she was avoiding this because she didn’t love him. In all the times he had thought over the way she had rejected him that had never once crossed his mind. Gendry knew that she loved him, he just didn’t know if that would be enough. 

“We can go as slow as you need. I am not in a hurry Arya.” Gendry implored, wanting to reach out and put a finger under her chin to guide her into meeting his eyes. He would wait for her, for however long she needed but he needed her to hear what he had to say first. “I never should have asked you to be my lady. I should have asked you to be my family.” 

The echo of a thought she herself had once spoken caused Arya to look up at him slowly, her gray eyes searching his cautiously as if she was afraid of what she might find there. Gendry met her gaze unflinchingly, trying desperately to not get his hopes up. She had asked him to be her family once, he hoped that after everything they had been through, she still wanted to be his. 

The moment between them seemed to stretch on for days before Arya gave the tiniest shake of her head. Gendry felt his heart drop into his feet at the motion. No matter what he told himself about not hoping it seemed that he had failed. He felt the rejection like she had put a blade through his heart as she whispered so softly he almost couldn’t hear her, “I don’t want to be a lady.” 

“I don’t want you to either.” Gendry promised, his voice breaking on the last word. Didn’t she realize that he had learned his mistake? He wasn’t asking her to be someone she wasn’t now, he only wanted her as who she was. Dangerous and wild and willful. He wanted Arya, not Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell. Just Arya, whoever she chose to be. 

Arya took the tiniest of steps towards him and Gendry felt his heart lift a little at the movement. Her calm mask was back in place so he had no idea as to what she was thinking. “I don’t want to wear dresses or run a castle.” 

“Neither do I.” Gendry agreed earnestly. 

“You don’t want to wear dresses?” Arya asked lightly and it took Gendry’s frantic mind a moment longer than it should have to realize that she was teasing him. 

“I don’t.” He agreed with a small smile, “I don’t want you to either.” 

Arya stopped when she was just out of reach of his arms and it takes everything Gendry has to not reach out and touch her, to reassure himself that he is not dreaming and she is actually there in front of him. She tilted her head back slightly to look him in the eye, her gaze bright and ferocious as she reminded him, “I won’t be a lady.” Her gray eyes darken at the word. “I never have been.” 

“I won’t be a lord.” Gendry promised, curling his fingers into his palms so tightly he could feel the bite of his nails against his skin. He fiercely wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin against his. “I didn’t ask to be a Baratheon, I didn’t ask for Storm’s End. I’m going to tell Jon to give it to someone worthy of it.” 

“You are worthy of it.” Arya snapped, and Gendry couldn’t help but smile at the fight in her voice. She was always so quick to defend everyone, even from themselves. “You should take it if you want it.” 

Gendry shook his head as he tried to fight down the spark of anger he felt at her words. Why didn’t she understand what he was saying? Did she not realize what it was he was trying to tell her? He had already told her he loved her, was she truly so not used to hearing the words that she didn’t believe him? 

“I don’t want a castle Arya.” Gendry insisted adamantly. “I don’t want to be a lord. All I want is to be with you.” 

Arya looked at him for a long moment in which Gendry hardly dared to breath. He didn’t know how he could tell her anymore plainly than that. If she didn’t understand him now, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. 

“How would you be with me?” Arya finally asked as she took another minuscule step forward. 

Gendry drew in a sharp breath as she stepped close enough that their bodies were almost touching. “I would be your family.” he whispered immediately, thinking back to that dark night all those years ago when he had said the wrong thing and messed everything up between them the first time. 

He didn’t even have the time to hope that he wasn't messing everything up between them now before Arya smiled at him softly and he forgot how to breath. She reached up in the small space between them to grip the collar of his tunic and used it to pull him down to kiss him. 

Gendry thought he had known happiness the first time they had kissed or when he found out that after all those years of believing otherwise, she was alive. That was nothing compared to this. To having her wrap her small lethal hands around the back of his neck and to feel her lips moving against his. Gendry felt that he had never known true happiness before this moment. 

Arya pulled away just far enough to whisper breathlessly against his lips. “That’s all I ever wanted from you.” 

He didn’t know where they would go or what they would do come the morning but right now all that mattered was Arya was here and in his arms. That Arya was his family, and he was hers. And that was how they would stay, from this day until the end of their days.


End file.
